Back from the Dead
by DeeDeeINFJ
Summary: My own continuation of Eric and Sookie's story after Dead Reckoning.
1. Chapter 1

_I had planned to finish doing book 11 for "Eric" before I started this, but I'm too eager to start my own story after years (!) of rewriting Charlaine's. Some people may not like what I choose to do with the story, and that's okay. This is how I personally wish things could go for Eric and Sookie. I hope you like it. And don't worry – "Eric" will continue!_

* * *

><p>Eric didn't call.<p>

I had told myself that I wouldn't care if he did or didn't. I had told myself that I didn't even want him to. When 10:00 rolled around without a peep from the phone, I realized that I cared very much.

I was too restless to sleep, so I put on my rattiest, comfiest shorts and my rattiest, comfiest t-shirt. I plopped myself on the sofa and clicked on the TV. TNT was rerunning episodes of _Bones_, as usual, so I settled in to watch.

Naturally, someone picked that time to knock on the door.

"Coming!" I yelled over my shoulder. There was no time to throw on a bra, but I used my hands to smooth out my hair as I walked to the door. If you pop by uninvited at 10:20 at night, you shouldn't expect put-together Sookie. So there.

A quick peek revealed that my guest was Eric. My heart flip-flopped between pissed off and relieved. I gulped down both of those emotions and arranged my face into something that I hoped looked nonchalant.

I unlocked the door and opened it. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you in person," he said. "Will you let me in?"

Without a word, I stepped back from the door. As he walked past me into the house, I took those precious few seconds to steel myself. However much I wanted him to call, it didn't mean that I was happy with him. I shut the door.

"Well?" I said. I crossed my arms, accomplishing both a defiant posture and a no-bra cover-up.

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and touched the spot on my neck where he had bitten me the night before. I flinched away from him.

"You know why I did it," he said.

Yes, I knew. "No. Why don't you explain that to me?"

"Because I'm tired of the way you always try to sweep the truth under the rug. One minute you help us plot Victor's death, and the next you abhor my presence because I fought for Victor's death. You claim to love a vampire, but you recoil from the blood he spilled to protect himself and you. I wanted you to see me as I really am."

"Just because I helped to plan it, it doesn't mean I want to see people die! Sure, you're a vampire, but I'm _human_, remember?" I shot back.

Eric paced into the living room, where _Bones_ was still playing on mute, and I followed a few steps behind. He turned around to face me again. "You can't have it both ways. You can't plan to kill people and then look the other way when it's done. If you don't like death and killing, then don't participate in the planning of it."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't find anything to say. He was right.

He reached out to touch my neck again. "Do you want me to heal it?" he asked.

"No," I said. I could barely hear my own voice. He was about to protest, but I stopped him. "You're right."

"I didn't mean that you should never let me heal you, or that my bites should always hurt you. I simply wanted you to see-"

"No, I know," I said. "I know what you meant. I knew before you told me." I looked at the silent commercials flashing on my TV. "And you stopped when I told you to."

"Why didn't you stop me sooner than you did?"

I was fighting back tears when I forced myself to meet his eyes. "I guess I felt like it was a punishment I deserved," I told him.

He pulled me into his arms, and I let him. "Why should you be punished when we did what was right?" he asked. I wished with all my heart that I could believe him, but the Christian in me wouldn't allow my conscience to be soothed so easily. After a few minutes, he said, "No more of this. It is past."

I stepped back a little so I could look up at him. "When do you have to leave?" I feared the answer, but I was determined to try facing the truth for once.

"Leave?" he repeated, frowning.

"Go to Oklahoma," I said.

"My lover, I am not going to Oklahoma. I will fight this. I have already spoken to associates who will help me get rid of Freyda, and as soon as I hear from Felipe, I-"

"No!" I said. I used my hands to push myself away from him. "No more killing!"

I saw anger flash in his eyes, and his mouth was a thin line. Finally, he said, "What would you have me do, Sookie?" His voice was so calm it was chilling. "There is no magic wand to wave and make this go away."

I saw it, then, as if I were sitting in front of the mirror, looking right down at it. The cluviel dor. I could've slapped myself for being so blind about the most obvious way to use it. I would save Eric from this marriage. Undoing it wouldn't change anything in the present besides freeing Eric, so there were no weird "time paradox" dangers to worry about. Eric must have wondered why I was beaming at him, so happy I could burst into tears.

"I can help you," I said. I reached for his hand and led him to my room. I opened the makeup drawer and withdrew the cluviel dor, lightly dusting off the powder with my fingertips. "Do you know what this is?" I asked him, holding it out to him.

If I didn't know that Eric never breathed, I might have sworn that his breath stopped. "Where did you get that?"

"You know, don't you?" I asked excitedly. "_This_ is our magic wand, Eric. I can make it so that the marriage arrangement never happened, and nobody gets hurt."

"You would use a cluviel dor to help me? You know it can be used only once?"

"Yes, only once. For the person I love."

A good bit of kissing happened before I could speak again. Not that I minded at all.

"But I have to be sure," I said when I was able. Eric looked wary, and I continued quickly, "There are… issues between us that we have to work out first, Eric. You know I'm right."

He sat down on the end of my bed and spread his hands. "Then let us begin now. What concerns you?"

"Just a second."

I returned the cluviel dor to the drawer, taking care to disguise it again as I always did. Then I went to Eric. He was so tall, I could stand in front of him and have him still close to eye level. He put his arms around my waist and kissed me, and for a minute I considered saying, "To hell with talking! Take me now!" But I was determined to stick with my new plan to confront things instead of hiding from them.

"Well, to start with, we can't pretend that my aging isn't a problem," I said.

"It isn't."

I sighed and leaned into him, wishing I could believe him and brush the issue aside as easily as he did. "It _is_," I said softly. "Honey, I can't read your mind, but I'm guessing you have this idea that eventually you'll convince me to let you turn me." His silence was the only answer I needed. "I won't. That's never gonna happen. I _am_ going to age, and I can't imagine that you'll still want me when I'm saggy and old and arthritic and…"

"Stop," he said.

"See?" I smiled in spite of myself. "You can't even bear to hear me talk about it."

"No, I don't relish the idea of your body aging and dying. I hate the idea of it. But does it necessarily follow that I will hate your body?" One of the hands he had rested on my hips drifted down to touch my thigh. "Did I stop loving the skin here? Have I ever seemed hesitant to kiss these scars?"

"You always kiss them," I admitted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you love them."

He raised both hands to my face, holding me so that I had to look him directly in the eyes. "I do." There was ferocity in his voice, and it took me aback. "They say something about you. Every time I press my lips to them, I am reminded of your strength. How would wrinkles be any different?"

"But-"

His hands drifted down my arms to rest on my hips again. "And you would not have many wrinkles. You will never be old and decrepit because you have fairy blood, which keeps you always younger than you really are, and you will have my blood."

"Eric, you can't be with an old woman! You're…" I waved my hand in exasperation. "You're you!"

"I understand the problem here," he said, "and it's not me. The problem is your own insecurity."

"Well…" I floundered. "Yes."

"I will love you until the day you die. I will fuck you until your poor heart can't take it anymore."

I had to laugh. "Eric, really!"

"What is your next concern?" he asked.

Moving right along, then. Eric seemed as determined as I was to just have it out now. Well, good for him. He wasn't going to like this next bit – not at all. I took a deep breath.

"I think you should resign as sheriff."

"No."

"As long as you're sheriff, we're always gonna be caught up in politics and danger of some kind. We'll never have any peace. And there will always be stuff you have to hide from me. You can't do that anymore. I mean it."

He studied me for a moment, his blond eyebrows furrowed as he searched my eyes. "The secrecy is what actually bothers you, not the danger," he said slowly, almost to himself. "Do I have that right?"

"Well, I don't like getting beat up and almost killed every week, but it's kind of right."

"No wife of mine will ever have peace, my lover. I am a vampire, first of all, which means there will always be those who want to kill me. And whether I'm a sheriff or not, I have a thousand years' worth of enemies. If peace is what you want, then say so now, and I'll leave."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I do," I said in a croaky kind of voice. I swallowed again. "I do want peace." True to his word, Eric moved to stand and leave, but I stopped him with one hand on his chest. He gave me a questioning look. "I want peace," I repeated, "but not if it means losing you."

He swiped his finger over my cheek and put it to his lips, tasting my tears. "I want to have sex with you right now," he said. "But I suspect we aren't finished talking yet."

"No," I confirmed with a shake of my head. "Are you going to start talking to me, then? I mean _really_ talking to me… telling me things?"

"I will tell you everything I can."

"Nope, nuh uh, buddy. That's too roundabout and sneaky. I'm serious."

"So am I," he said. "I will not make a promise that can't be kept, and I cannot promise to tell you everything. I will tell you everything I can, and you will have to trust me – not one of your strong points, by the way, since we're talking about problems."

I chewed the inside of my lip a bit. "I know," I said. "And I'll do my best to trust you if you'll do your best to keep me in the loop."

"Is there anything else?" He toyed with the bottom edge of my shirt. "I can see straight through this old shirt you threw on, and all things considered, I have been very, very good."

I smiled and kissed him lightly, unable to resist sliding my fingers through his hair. "I don't have anything else." I couldn't help but laugh when he immediately started to pull up my shirt. "It's your turn," I said. He kissed my exposed breast, and I pushed my shirt back down, ignoring his growl of impatience. "There must be something you need to talk to me about."

"I have two concerns," he said. "To hear the first, you need to take off that shirt."

"Forget it," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'll lose you in two seconds flat if I do that. So what's the first thing?"

"I want us to live together, and I would like to pay for you to take classes instead of working."

Whatever I thought he might say, that came out of left field. I had always wished I could go back to school, but affording it was never a possibility. The offer was tempting.

"I can't let you do that," I said. "I will not be a-"

"A kept woman, I know. And you won't be a kept woman. You will be my wife, using _our_ money to take classes."

"That's not the way you put it," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "I worded it badly. The point is, will you do it?"

I slipped out of the comfortable circle of his arms and sat beside him. "I know you probably won't understand this, but I love this house," I said. "I can't imagine not living here."

"It doesn't have the security and protection of my house."

"I know."

"We should live together. We are married."

"I know that, too."

I sighed. I realized that somewhere along the way, I had given up protesting that we were married. I would have to think about that later. A silence stretched between us. We seemed to have reached an impasse.

"I have my own fondness for this house," he said in a quiet voice, and I looked at him, surprised. "This house, that shower, this bed." My face felt red-hot, but I didn't dare interrupt him. "We could live in Shreveport and spend our weekends here – together, quietly."

We turned to each other, and Eric watched my face for my reaction. I smiled.

"The second thing?" I asked softly.

"We must restore the blood bond."

That's what I had been expecting and fearing. I took my time answering. "I can't, Eric. I just can't."

"This is not negotiable," he said.

Though I had told myself that I would be careful if and when this topic came up, his attitude made my temper flare.

I stood up and crossed my arms again. "You're right. It's not."

And just like that, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

I plopped back down on the bed in a huff. Sure, Eric was famous for dramatic arrivals and exits, but he always got in a last word before he left. And we had been doing so well! Maybe I shouldn't have gotten riled up. He had, after all, compromised on everything else we had discussed, and I knew how important that damned blood bond was to him.

What I wished he could understand, though, was how important it was for me _not_ to have it. I had to be my own person. I had to know at all times that my feelings were _my_ feelings, mine and only mine. What good was the solace of a silent vampire mind when I could still read him through his emotions?

There was the protection aspect of it, sure. But I didn't see why we needed the blood bond for that. After all, I had swallowed only a little bit of his blood before the bond, and he had been able to find me and know when I needed him. I had no problem with taking enough of his blood for that. But the full-on bond? No, thank you. I wasn't going back there.

I would just wait for him to call or come back. He always did.

But my conscience wouldn't leave me alone. It was always up to Eric to call or come back, wasn't it? When had I ever extended my hand back to him? I walked around the side of the bed and picked up the phone.

"I am here," he answered.

"Eric, please come back," I said. "You haven't gotten too far, have you?" The line went quiet. I tried to picture a tall, blond Viking hanging in mid-air, talking on a cell phone. "Eric?"

"No, my lover, I have not gotten too far. There is no too far."

His words sent a warm, happy thrill through my body from my toes up to my head. "You'll come back, then?" I asked.

There was a rap on my window, and I knew I must have jumped sky-high. I put down the phone and went to open the window. No sooner had I closed it than I was in Eric's arms, being kissed within an inch of my life.

"I hoped you would change your mind," he mumbled between kisses. I felt the bed touch the backs of my legs. "Being bound to you, Sookie, was the greatest happiness I have ever known."

It was difficult to think through the fog of passion, but God help me, I tried. "It-it was?" I asked.

My threadbare t-shirt was pulled over my head. I had no idea where it landed, and I didn't care. Eric lowered me to the bed and kissed his way down my neck. I felt his tongue touch the spot where he had bitten me the night before.

"Mm," was his answer, a vibration of his lips against my skin. I shivered.

"Can we…" I gasped as his cool hand slid past the waistband of my cotton shorts. _Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, help me_, I thought. "Can we talk about this?"

Eric stilled above me, and his forehead creased. "Did I mistake your meaning?" he asked.

I opened my mouth, and what I had intended to say somehow turned into something else. "Tell me why the bond made you happy," I said. I traced the hard line of his jaw with my fingers, and he turned his head to kiss them.

"I felt like a living thing again. It felt as if your blood brought my body back to life."

"Doesn't all blood do that?" I asked. "I mean, even True Blood keeps you alive."

"Sustenance, my dear one. Not life." He resumed the movement of his hand under my shorts, and everything went hazy again. "I miss feeling your pleasure. At least I can still see it in your eyes."

"Eric…" I sighed.

"And hear it in your voice," he said. His fangs flashed as he smiled. "And smell it." In one blur of motion, he pulled off my shorts and underwear. He leaned over me and nipped my bottom lip with his teeth. "Shall I taste it as well?"

"Wait," I managed to say – I don't know how. I pushed him backwards and sat up. "Take off your clothes," I told him.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love vampire speed? His body, wonderfully naked now, was back next to mine in a second. I nuzzled my face into his neck and closed my eyes, enjoying the coolness of him against my hot, flushed skin.

"Eric, I love you," I said quietly, but I knew he could hear me. "I love you."

I opened my mouth and pressed my teeth against the thick vein that pulsed below his jaw.

"Don't do this unless you want to," he said. I stopped and tilted my head back to look at him. "Is it what you want?"

What I wanted was to say "yes" and to have that be true. I wanted it more than anything. But I shook my head. And Eric nodded because he already knew the truth.

"I want to do it for you," I said.

He smiled a little and smoothed my hair back from my face. "That is not the same thing. You asked me why the bond made me happy. Tell me why it made you unhappy."

"I've spent my whole life having to be in other people's heads," I said, "knowing more about anyone than I ever wanted to know. I need to be with someone who can be…" I broke off and cast around for the words to express how I felt. "Someone who can be my quiet corner. When I go there, all I feel, all I hear, is myself."

"I understand this." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But when we are being quiet together, you would feel this peace whether we were bonded or not."

I chewed on that one for a second. He had a point. "Yeah…" I hedged. "The bond just makes me feel manipulated and powerless. Not because of anything you've ever done," I added quickly, seeing the unhappy turn of his mouth. "Why can't I drink a tiny bit of your blood, so it'll be the way it was before Rhodes?"

"It cannot work that way anymore," he said. "Once a bond has been created, it takes only one exchange to repair it."

Well, crap. I should have known that my simple idea was too good to be true. It was all or nothing. I looked at Eric and thought of everything he had done to protect me and help me, and Lord only knew what things he had done that I didn't even know about.

All or nothing.

I had given my all once before to Bill, but after him, I had never trusted myself – or anyone else – enough to give it again. My "all" had been given as a whole and had come back to me in pieces. I had given some of those broken bits and pieces to Quinn and to Eric, keeping the rest safely tucked away. As long as I kept some of the pieces, I thought, no one could break me completely.

Now I realized that I had only been preventing myself from ever being whole.

I kissed Eric's thick, muscular throat and imagined that I was looking in every corner of myself for the pieces I had hidden and stashed away. I imagined that I could pile it all up in front of him and tell him, "Here's what I've got. This is everything."

What I said was: "Okay. If it's all or nothing, then I choose all."

I bit down hard and tasted his blood on my tongue. Eric growled, but I knew it was from pleasure rather than pain. He fisted his hands in my hair. It hurt a little, but I didn't care. When I felt the small wounds begin to close up, I sucked on them, wanting to take in every bit of him that I could. His body stiffened against mine as an orgasm took him, and I smiled. When I had cleaned every drop of blood away with my tongue and my lips, I leaned my head back to accept the toe-curling kiss that I knew was waiting.

I was not disappointed.

It wasn't just the kiss. We were once again bound by blood, and Eric's joy washed over me like a storm surge. It was a flood I didn't mind drowning in. If I hadn't felt the bed underneath me, I could have sworn that gravity had lost its hold on me. I offered my neck to him, and he sank his fangs into me in the same moment he pushed into me. My pleasure – his pleasure – _our_ pleasure was overwhelming.

"You are mine," he said.

I understood those words now, and I welcomed them. I drew his mouth to mine. "Yes," I answered as he kissed me. My blood was still on his lips. "Yes… yes… yes."

* * *

><p>It was past noon when I woke up. I winced at the sunlight and scowled at the empty spot beside me on the bed. <em>Stupid sun<em>, I thought. I rolled over and pressed my face into Eric's pillow. But I couldn't stay in bed all day. Number one, it's not in my nature. Number two, tonight we would use the cluviel dor to undo the arranged marriage with the queen of Oklahoma, and I had some preparations to make.

Bright with anticipation, I leapt out of bed, paying no mind to my sore, very worked-out muscles, and pulled open my make-up drawer. I stared down and felt like someone had just punched me hard in the stomach.

The cluviel dor was gone.

_Okay_, I thought. _Don't panic._ Maybe I hadn't returned it to the drawer last night after I'd shown it to Eric.

But I knew that I had.

Maybe Eric had taken it? I wanted to think that he would have left me a note if he had done something like that, but knowing Eric, he very well might not have. I went to the guest room, made sure that the curtains were closed tight, and opened the trapdoor just enough for me to slip through. I patted Eric down lightly, even though I knew from experience that it would take screaming and slapping to rouse him, but his pockets were empty.

_Oh, God._ I took a deep breath. _Oh, God._

I climbed back out of the hidey-hole and returned to my room. I opened the drawer again and took out each item one by one. No magical fairy gadget.

But I did find a strand of hair that could only be Claude's.


	3. Chapter 3

I stormed to Claude's room and banged on the door, but I didn't hear anything from inside. "Claude, you better open up! I need to talk to you!" I hollered.

Still nothing.

Expecting the door to be locked, I jiggled the knob only half-heartedly. To my surprise, there was no resistance, and I pushed the door open. My fairy cousin wasn't there, but nothing looked wrong or out of place. Of course, it made sense that he would run off if he had stolen the cluviel dor; he would hardly steal it and then bunk in his room like everything was normal.

I sagged against the door frame for a minute, just to collect myself. Okay, back to business.

The phone at Hooligan's was answered by a man who was trying and failing to sound sexy. I think it was his fake English accent that put me off.

"I'd like to speak to Claude, please," I said.

"Who's calling?" the man asked, suddenly all business and with a natural Southern accent.

"Tell him it's his cousin, Sookie, and he better get his rear end on this phone."

While I waited, I drummed my fingertips on the countertop and chewed on my lips. It seemed like an eternity, but the clock told me it had only been a couple of minutes.

"Cousin Sookie," came Claude's voice at last, "to what do I owe the-"

"Now you listen here, Claude. I've let you stay in my house, I've kept you company, I've cooked for you, and I thought we had an understanding about helping each other out. Was I wrong about that?"

There was a short pause. "I didn't think you would miss it," he said finally. "You never use it, and I thought-"

"You can only use it once!" I exclaimed, interrupting him again. "And you had no business stealing it! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Another pause on his end, longer this time. "Are we still talking about that old tube of red lipstick from the back of your make-up drawer?" he asked.

It was my turn to go quiet. "Lipstick? Y-yes." I thought fast. "It was… it was my gran's, you see. A keepsake. Um… What on earth did you take that for?"

"I was late for work this morning, and one of my dancers needed it. I had forgotten to pick some up last night. I didn't want to wake you, so I just checked your dresser, found that tube at the back, and borrowed it. My dancer only used it once. I'll return it to you tonight." He must have mistaken my silence for anger because he added, "I am truly sorry, cousin."

"It's okay. Just don't let it happen again." I had tried to sound stern, but I'm afraid my voice sounded anxious and small.

Now what?

* * *

><p>At dark, I went to meet Eric at the trapdoor that opened into his hidey-hole. He had felt my presence and my tension, and his expression was dark when he emerged.<p>

"Sookie," he said, allowing the trapdoor to fall back behind him with a bang, "what happened? Are you all right?"

He cupped my head in his large hands, and his touch made me crumble. To his credit, he waited patiently as I cried, folding me against his solid chest.

"The cluviel dor is gone," I managed to say after some time. "It wasn't in the drawer when I woke up. Oh, Eric, I'm sorry…" A fresh bout of sobs overtook me.

Eric stroked my hair. "Do you think someone took it?"

I pulled back slightly to look up at him. "That's the only explanation," I said. "Isn't it?"

"Claude?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. And I can't imagine Dermot stealing it."

"Never put anything past a fairy, my lover," he said.

He leaned down and kissed my cheeks slowly, gently, and I knew that he was tasting my tears. His lips were cool and feather-soft on my skin. I closed my eyes and submitted myself to his care, relieved that one of us, at least, was calm.

"Dear one," he murmured between kisses. He added a couple of words in his ancient language.

I opened my eyes. "How can you be so calm? What are we going to do?" I asked him.

"Before we do anything else," he said, his mouth wandering down to my neck, "we're going to make love." He pressed his lips to my pulse. "I want you." I felt his tongue and the light scrape of his fangs. "I need you."

I won't lie and say I didn't shiver. In fact, I shivered from my topmost hair to my little toes. But I summoned all my willpower, which wasn't much at that point, and managed to breathe, "Stop."

He lifted his head to look at me. His fangs were fully extended, and his eyes were dark with lust. I could feel that lust coursing through our renewed bond – and through his jeans. Call me crazy, but it felt wrong, like it came out of nowhere. I couldn't think that my sweetie-pie would be this turned on right after hearing that we'd lost his ticket out of Oklahoma.

"Stop?" he said. He drew my hips closer to his. "Look into my eyes and tell me you don't want me inside you right now."

_Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. Apostle Peter on a fishing boat._

I was afraid of him right then, but the way he was looking at me, and the pressure of his body, and the desire blazing through the blood bond, and the gravelly growl of his voice… They all conspired against me. I knew that if I tried to meet his gaze and say I didn't want him, I would fail miserably.

I touched his cheek, working up as much calm as I could. "Eric… baby… something's wrong."

Either because my effort to calm him worked or because he sensed my very real unease, his face seemed to suddenly be reinhabited by… well, by _him_. I allowed myself to relax a little.

"When I told you the cluviel dor's missing, I didn't expect you to be horny, of all things," I told him. "It was sort of like something came over you. It scared me."

He stepped back slightly, and my body, which still hadn't caught up with my brain, ached for him.

"It's the bond," he said. "Being inside you again makes me want to…"

"Be inside me again?" I finished with a smile.

He got that twinkle in his eyes, that Eric Twinkle, and I felt like my body was positively glowing with happiness.

"Yes, exactly. As for the cluviel dor, I am not worried."

I gaped at him. "Really? I am, and I'm not even the one in an arranged vampire marriage." A little voice said, _Actually, that's precisely what you're in_, but I tuned it out.

"I will not marry Freyda," Eric said firmly. "I will not. If the cluviel dor isn't my way out, I will find another. All I need to know is that you will stand by me, which you have already done."

Uh-oh. That sounded a little too unconditional for me, and you can't – you simply can't – be unconditional with a vampire. Especially not with Eric Northman.

I could tell by Eric's expression that he had read my thoughts.

"You have to trust me," he said.

I thought of pink spandex and a mansion in Jackson and a dark hallway in Rhodes.

"I trust you," I said, and I meant it, too. _All or nothing_, I reminded myself. "Whatever happens, I'm not going anywhere."

We walked out of the guest room, and Eric seemed to be heading for the kitchen. I reached for his hand and pulled him back to the doorway of my bedroom.

"You can't get a girl all hot and bothered and then change your mind," I smiled.

We made our meandering way to the bed, kissing and grasping at each other. I pulled up his t-shirt, and he yanked it the rest of the way over his head. Running my hands over his chest, I realized that the blood bond renewal had sent my own hormones into overdrive; I had been too anxious earlier to notice, and too quick to assume that the lust I felt was all Eric. How wrong I was. I wanted him every kind of way, and I wanted him now.

"Put that vamp speed to good use," I gasped, and he laughed.

A second later, we were naked on the bed, and he was kissing his way down my body.

"No," I said, tugging at his shoulders.

"No?" he repeated.

Usually, having Eric's mouth on me transported me to seven heavens of bliss, but tonight I was too impatient.

"Look into my eyes and tell me you don't want to be inside me right now," I said.

I had no qualms about using his own line on him. Didn't look like he had any complaints, either. He pushed into me with a primal-sounding growl, and my body was more than ready for him. I don't much care for the word "fucking," but that's what we were doing. There's definitely something to be said for it.

When we lay there afterwards, me breathless and sweaty, I turned my head to look at him. "You didn't mention this as a reason to renew the bond," I said.

He laughed. "I didn't know."

It was nice lying there for a little while, just feeling happy. That's something I don't get to experience often enough. So I almost regretted it when a thought struck me.

"I think I know who might've taken the cluviel dor," I said.


	4. Chapter 4

"I think I know who might've taken the cluviel dor," I said.

He propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at me. "Tell me," he said.

"Now, don't get all mad until we know for sure," I told him sternly. "But maybe Amelia took it."

Eric can't stand Amelia, so I was more than a little afraid of what his reaction might be.

"She didn't know about it." His eyes searched mine, and I could tell by his expression that he found his answer there. "Did she?"

"Yeah…" I admitted, wincing. "I didn't know what it was at first, only what it's called. So I asked her."

He let his head fall back to the pillow while I stared up at the ceiling and tried not to feel stupid. It didn't work.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

We turned our heads and looked at each other. Eric raised his hand to stroke my messy sex-hair into submission behind my ear.

"You could not have known the significance of what you had," he continued. "And Amelia knows about magical objects. She was a logical choice to ask."

I allowed myself to smile a little.

Then he finished with the humdinger: "Or you could have asked me."

I didn't know what to say to that. Yes, I could have asked Eric. But…

What was the "but"? It wasn't that I didn't trust him.

Except that that's exactly what it was. I had failed to trust him. Knowing the way Eric operates generally, with his sneaky, high-handed ways and his position in the vampire community, I honestly didn't think that I had been wrong to be careful.

I could've said, "Oh, I didn't think about it," or I could have come up with some other lame excuse. But I decided that Eric deserved better than that. If this – if _we_ – were going to work, we had to be more open with each other. I was about to see how well my honesty would pay off.

"No," I said slowly. "I couldn't have asked you."

There was a little stretch of silence while that sank in. I didn't feel anger or any other bad thing in the bond, so I just waited for him to tell me what he was thinking.

_Maybe you're the one who needs to explain what _you're_ thinking,_ I told myself.

"I trust that you'll always do your best to protect me. I trust that you love me. But everything else, Eric? Your world… the politics… the shady stuff that I know you always have going on…" I was fumbling badly, but I couldn't word my misgivings in any coherent way. I trailed off and looked at him a little desperately, hoping that he understood.

"We discussed this last night," he said, speaking at last. "I agreed to keep you 'in the loop,' as you put it, and you agreed to trust me. I suspect that we glossed over this problem too easily. You don't trust me fully, do you?"

"No," I murmured. "Not… fully."

If I was proud of myself for telling him the difficult truth, it was completely overshadowed by my shame in confessing it.

Eric sat up and swung his legs out of bed, and I grasped at his nearest arm with both hands.

"Please don't go, Eric. I'm sorry! I didn't want to lie to you."

He turned back to look at me, and to my surprise, I saw nothing in his face but affection. He leaned to kiss me.

"Come to Fangtasia at sundown tomorrow," he said. He kissed me once more, briefly. "You will call Amelia after I leave?"

"Yes."

"Let me know what you find out."

He had pulled on his clothes already, and I followed him to the bedroom door, naked as the day I was born.

"Eric," I said, reaching for his arm again, "you heard what I said, right? That I trust you to love me and protect me? I just-"

He cupped my face in his hand and drew me closer for one last kiss. "I heard you, dear one. Fangtasia, tomorrow night. Don't forget."

Since I was stark naked, I didn't walk him to the door. I located my shirt near the bed and my shorts behind a chair. My panties had not survived Eric's impatient hands and vampire speed. I dressed myself, flopped back into bed, and reached for my phone. I really didn't want to make this phone call. I hadn't spoken to Amelia since the night I kicked her out of my house.

Amelia answered on the second ring. "Sookie!" she said.

"Hi," I replied lamely. "Listen, you don't happen to be anywhere near Bon Temps tonight, I suppose?"

I heard dishes clatter in a sink. "Nope, I'm at home. Do you need something?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Um… is it possible to use a cluviel dor by accident?"

"Totally impossible," she said, laughing. "You'll need to ask Mr. Cataliades when you're ready to use it, but I do know you can't wish it away by accident."

"Oh, okay, thanks. I better go."

"Sookie?" she said. "Wait a second. Please. I am so sorry about the thing with Alcide. I've been beating myself up over it. You have no idea how bad I feel about it. Please say you'll forgive me someday."

Most of my old Sunday School friends would probably tell you that I didn't learn much in church since I have wild sex with my vampire husband, love gay people just as much as straight ones, and sometimes kill people, but I did learn about forgiveness. God sure has a lot to forgive me for, so I decided I could forgive Amelia for putting a naked werewolf in my bed.

"I've already forgiven you," I told her. "Thanks for helping me with the cluviel dor."

We chatted for a few more minutes, and I have to admit that by the time we hung up, I felt better having that situation resolved. It's awful being on the outs with people, especially when you have as few real friends as I do.

But the problem of the cluviel dor remained. I could think of only two more people who might've taken it. There was Mr. Cataliades, though that was highly unlikely. And there was Dermot. I've been fooled by people before, and Eric was always suspicious of any fairy, but I just didn't think he would do that to me. He didn't know about the cluviel dor anyway.

_Oh!_ I thought suddenly. Sam knew about it. Amelia had asked him to tell me to check my e-mail when she sent me the information about it. Naturally, Sam wouldn't have known what such a thing was, but it can't have been that hard to find out.

I put on some better, more decent clothes and drove to Merlotte's. Sam wasn't up front, but India pointed me back to his office.

"Come on in," I heard him say when I knocked. He smiled when he saw me. "Hey, _cher_."

"Sam," I said urgently, pulling up a chair beside him, "do you remember when Amelia called you to relay a message to me about an e-mail she sent?"

"Vaguely." His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember what the e-mail was about?"

"A cluviel dor, right?" he said. "I hope nothing happened to it."

I felt pretty sure that the bottom dropped out of my stomach. "Y-you know what it is – what it does?"

"No, but your cousin Dermot seemed to think it was something really important when I mentioned it to him."

"Really?" I forced myself to stay calm. "How, um… How did that come up?"

"He spoke to me the other night and said he had sensed something in your house, and he asked me if I had ever heard you mention a cluviel dor. He said it was a fairy object that protects its owner, and he was thinking that your grandfather or Claude might've given you one." Sam shrugged. "I told him that Amelia had contacted you about something called a cluviel dor, but that I didn't know if you have one."

"Oh, okay, then." I smiled, even though I knew very well that Sam could spot my fake smile from a mile away. "Thanks, Sam."

"Hey, did I tell him something I shouldn't have? Dermot's the good one, right?"

I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder and made my best effort at a real smile as I stood and moved my chair back against the office wall. "Yeah," I said. "Dermot's the good one. Good night, Sam!"

When I reached my car, I sat there for a few minutes and berated myself for trusting Dermot too much. Eric had warned me about fairies, and in Dermot's case, I just hadn't listened. I opened my phone and texted "Dermot, I think" to Eric. After a moment, I added a second message: "Love you."

"Sundown tomorrow" was all he sent back.


	5. Chapter 5

I spent all of the next day trying – and failing – to find out where Dermot was. If Claude knew, he wasn't saying, and neither was anyone else at Hooligans. So I wasn't in a great mood to begin with when I left for Shreveport shortly before sundown. My apprehension over this appointment with Eric had me feeling all twisted up and nauseated to boot.

Business at Fangtasia had picked up again since Vampire's Kiss was "Closed Indefinitely," and I had to circle the parking lot a couple of times before I found an empty space. I showed my ID to the bouncer, whom I didn't recognize, and I saw Pam wave at me over the heads of several fangbangers who had clustered around her.

We met in the middle of the bar. I paused a second or two to take in her outfit, which reminded me a little of that infamous get-up Cher had worn to the Oscars one year, except that Pam didn't have any kind of headpiece.

"Hey, Pam," I grinned. "You really outdid yourself tonight."

"Isn't it ridiculous? I love it." She preened for a moment and then got right down to business. "Follow me."

She led me to Eric's office, where I expected her to let me in to see him. Instead, we both walked in, and Eric was nowhere in sight. I watched in confusion as she went behind his desk and motioned for me to come closer. Arrayed on the desktop were several keys, a keycard, several stacks of papers, some business cards, and an envelope.

"Okay," she said. She picked up one of the keycards and handed it to me. I took it and stared down at it blankly. "That's the key to the vault."

"Huh?"

"Come."

I followed her to the closet, where she showed me how to insert the keycard in a spot cleverly hidden by the crown molding. My eyes widened as one wall slid behind another like something out of a James Bond movie.

Pam stood aside. "After you."

The vault, as she had called it, was about eight feet square. It was lined with dark metal filing cabinets, and there was some kind of contraption in the middle of the floor. When I looked at Pam questioningly, she pushed a small lever with her steel-toed shoe, and the floor opened.

"This is where Eric and I sleep when we stay at the bar," she explained. She closed the floor again. "These files contain all of Fangtasia's business information – our contacts, suppliers, legal documents, and whatever else you can think of. You are welcome to peruse them as you see fit."

I was beyond confused. "Pam," I said, shaking my head, "what's going on?"

"Eric tells me to provide you with this information, and I do it. Let's move on."

She showed me how to reseal the vault, then led me back into Eric's main office and to his desk. She flipped open his laptop.

"Come around so you can see," she told me.

Once I was standing to her right – looking about as lost as a nun in a sex shop, I might add – her fingers flew over the keyboard, typing in the password. While she waited for Eric's desktop to load, she told me the password, a seemingly random combination of numbers and letters that was nevertheless easy to remember. Good thing, too, because I was commanded to memorize it.

"This computer has some records for Fangtasia, it runs Bill's database, and it also contains copies of all documents related to Eric's position as Sheriff of Area 5. You can use it at any time for your own reference. The password changes every Monday at noon. The one I gave you? You substitute every letter and number with the one that follows it. And Z goes back to A. Do you understand?"

I understood very little of what was going on, but I did understand what she was telling me about the password, so I nodded.

She shut the laptop and picked up the keys from the desk. They had all been threaded neatly onto a simple keyring. "These are labeled and self-explanatory, I believe," she told me.

"Eric Garage," "Pam House," "Fangtasia," I read on the small, neatly typed labels. There were others, but I shoved the keys into my pocket without looking at them all. Pam was moving at a brisk pace.

"These," she said, handing me the business cards, "are Eric's various political and business contacts, should you ever need them. The rest-" she swept her hand to indicate the piles of paper "-are the most recent reports of Fangtasia's budget, suppliers, and so forth. Any questions?"

"Um…" _Where to begin?_ "What about that envelope?"

"That's for you. I'll leave you alone to read it. Come out and see me when you finish. Take as long as you want."

With that, Pam left me dumbfounded and alone in Eric's office. I sank into his cushy chair and reached for the envelope. It had a short, simple note inside.

_ Sookie, e__verything is here at your disposal, from the mundane to things you may not want to know. T-shirt orders. Executions. My bank accounts. Inventories. If there is something specific you wish to know about, you can ask Pam or me at any time. Nothing here is closed to you. __In order to be trusted, one has to be trustworthy. __E._

Well. Color me speechless.

I knew that the business reports had been left there more as a gesture than as something I was really expected to read, but I thought it would be rude to leave them. I gathered up everything and made my way back to Pam.

"Eric is waiting for you at his house," she said. "Do you need help carrying any of that?"

"You don't need to help me. I've got it."

Pam laughed as if I were the funniest, silliest human she'd ever laid eyes on. "I didn't mean me! I meant one of the workers."

"I've got it either way," I assured her, unable to keep from smiling. That Pam.

I wish I could say that I did a lot of thinking on the drive to Eric's house, but my brain was in too much of a jumble to think. The garage door opened when I pulled up, as if it had been expecting me. I parked inside, turned off the car, and sat there for a few minutes. I noticed a post-it note stuck on Eric's door, so I got out of the car at last.

The note said: "Come in and meet me in my office."

So that's what I did.

Eric was sitting at his desk, his hands folded neatly in front of him. He wore a suit and tie. He looked like a lawyer. He rose when I entered the room, and when I had sat down across from him, he sat as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand.

"Let me just say this real quick. What you did tonight... what it meant... I got it loud and clear. And I trust you. I don't need to look at your Fangtasia t-shirt orders or read your e-mails or poke around on your computer."

I exhaled loudly, as if I had just unburdened myself from some huge weight. Which was true in a way.

"I trust you with all my heart," I said again, softly.

Without a word, he slid a piece of paper across the desk so that I could see it. I leaned forward, and I almost choked when I saw that it was an Act of Divorce. I skimmed the paragraphs without really reading them. My eyes fell on Eric's signature, bold as ever, on the bottom left. To the right was a line that awaited my own signature.

I raised my head and locked my eyes on his. I couldn't read his expression, and his blood wasn't telling me anything.

"You… You're divorcing me?" I asked. My voice sounded far away and empty.

Had I pulled a Scarlett O'Hara, pushing away the great love of my life out of stubbornness and blindness and pride, only realizing my mistake when it was too late? I imagined running after Eric in a thick Shreveport fog, professing my love, only to have him reply, "Frankly, my lover, I don't give a damn."

Then I saw one corner of his mouth curve up. It wasn't a smirk. It was amused, sure. But it was loving.

"Sookie, I'm asking you to be my wife," he said, very gently.

It was crystal clear to me then. I could sign the paper and end our marriage, or I could tell Eric that I wanted to be his wife. He was putting the choice in my hands. It wasn't a proposal in a fancy restaurant with roses and champagne on the table, with Eric dropping to one knee and holding up a little velvet box.

Whatever romantic notions I had left over from my childhood, they shattered in that moment. But, oh, they were replaced by something so much better! Romance is all well and good, but love – _real_ love – is what you really want, isn't it? And I was looking down at an Act of Divorce that might as well have been stamped all over in red ink with the words, _Will you marry me?_ It was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen.

My vision was blurry with tears, but I lifted the paper up between us and tore it in half. I got up and walked around the desk to sit in his lap, one leg on either side of him. I took his face in my hands.

"Sorry, I'm already married," I said, and I closed the distance between our lips.

* * *

><p><em>As always, thank you for your reviews and encouragement. Nothing brightens my day like those email alerts. -DeeDee<em>


	6. Chapter 6

It was after three in the morning when I finally fell asleep. One minute I was curled into Eric, his fingertips stroking my temple, and the next I was wincing at the sunlight.

Lately, my life with Eric had made me feel like Juliet in that scene where she dreads the sunrise because she doesn't want to let Romeo leave her. Honestly, I didn't know how I could spend the rest of my life like that. Some folks are night people. Not me.

On the drive home, I saw a McDonald's sign at one of the exits, so I stopped by there and got a large coffee. It's a good thing I did, too, 'cause I was glad to be alert when I got to my house and found Dermot there.

He was sitting at the kitchen table like everything was normal. He even smiled at me when I walked in.

"There you are," he said, rising to meet me. "I was concerned when you didn't return home last night."

I frowned. "I was with Eric. And were you looking for me because you wanted to return something?" I asked, giving him a pointed look.

Dermot pulled out the chair nearest to where he had been sitting. "Please sit with me," he said.

I knew my eyes must've been wary as I tossed my empty coffee cup in the trash and sat down next to him. He reached over and took my hand. If I wasn't wary before, I damn well was then.

"My dear Sookie, I had to take the cluviel dor."

My mouth dropped into catching-flies position, and I didn't know if the shock was that he actually had stolen it or that he confessed so readily.

"I have known for a long time that there was one in this house," he continued. "I could feel it always. I spent many days and nights searching for it in your absence. I did not tell Claude, for he would have tried to steal it."

"And what makes you think it was okay for _you_ to steal it?" I demanded. I tried unsuccessfully to yank my hand away from his.

He shook his head at me sadly. "You would have given its power to the vampire. How could I stand by and let that happen? Especially… especially because you and I are the ones who must join together. Do you not find me beautiful? Do you not feel how we are drawn to each other?"

_Ew!_ was my first thought, but I refrained from saying it aloud and making myself sound like we were in kindergarten and Dermot had just dangled a worm in front of my face.

"You're my _uncle_," I said. He remembered that, right?

"These human relationships have no meaning for the fae," he countered.

Yeah, Sam had warned me about that. I had chosen not to believe that it might become an issue. So much for that.

"Okay…" I said slowly. "Two things, Dermot. First of all, you had no right to steal what my grandmother left for me. Second, I love Eric, and I'm not giving him up for you – or anyone, for that matter."

He released my hand, and I pulled it away while I had the chance. His beautiful face was dark and unhappy.

"It grieved me to betray your trust, dearest Sookie, but I had no choice. You would throw away the gift of the fae and our own future offspring for a vampire. No. I love you – I love our kind – too much to allow that."

Dermot withdrew the cluviel dor from his pocket, and I saw that in the hands of a true fairy, it glowed and pulsed with energy. He kissed it.

"I call upon the fairy kin to grant my request…"

"Dermot, no!" I cried out. I leaped up and tried to take the cluviel dor, but I was no match for him.

"…and to sever all ties between Sookie Stackhouse and Er-"

"I said _NO!_"

I used all my might to knee him in the groin, and he stumbled backwards with an _ooph_, his eyes bugging out like some kind of cartoon. The cluviel dor fell to the kitchen floor and broke into several pieces. Dermot let out an unearthly wail. For a moment I thought he might attack me, but he clasped his head in both hands and wept. I had absolutely no idea what to say or do.

Telling him to leave would be a good start.

"Dermot, I want you to get your things and go," I said.

He didn't move. "Everything is ruined. I weep for the children we will never have."

Oh, for Pete's sake.

"That was never gonna happen anyway," I told him hotly. "Now get out."

I followed him all the way upstairs to his room and watched as he put what little possessions he kept at my house into a bag. Once he was out of my house, I returned to the kitchen and stared down at the broken cluviel dor. I could think of only one person who might be able to help me, and that was Mr. Cataliades.

His phone went straight to voice mail.

"Hello, Mr. Cataliades," I said as brightly as I could. "This is Sookie. I wanted to ask you about getting insurance on that heirloom my grandmother left me. The one we talked about before? Please give me a call when you get a chance."

I set my phone on the table and squatted to pick up the pieces of the cluviel dor. I laid them on the table beside my phone and flopped into the chair vacated by Dermot. At some point, I dozed off. It was mid-afternoon when the phone rang and dragged me back to consciousness. I lifted my head gingerly from my arms and squinted at the phone. Sure enough, it was Mr. C.

"Miss Stackhouse, I am returning your call," he said, and I could hear other voices in the background. The line had a lot of static, too. No telling where he was.

"Yes, I wanted to ask about… damage insurance on that heirloom we discussed?"

There was a short pause. "What kind of damage?" he asked. "Will the painting simply need to be restored, or is the damage very bad?"

"Very bad, I'm afraid," I told him.

"I see. Let me call around for you, Miss Stackhouse, but my guess would be that there's nothing anyone can do, since your policy doesn't cover that."

I told him that I understood, and I sighed as I closed my phone and set it down. If the cluviel dor couldn't be repaired, then Eric and I would have to take matters into our own hands to get him away from Freyda. Only problem was, Eric told me that he had tried everything – and I believed him. What could possibly be left, besides killing her?

That was something I simply couldn't reconcile in my conscience. Killing in self-defense was one thing. Killing someone because she wanted my man? Because she technically had a _right_ to him according to their laws? I wasn't even torn; I couldn't do it. Eric would probably not understand, but he and I were used to disagreement.

So that left… what, exactly?

I couldn't sit around and stew about it all day, so I used the rest of the long summer afternoon to pack some boxes to take over to Eric's house. _Our_ house, I reminded myself. And this beloved house, which I would always think of as Gran's house, would be our weekend refuge.

When Eric rose at sundown, I had already unpacked the boxes I'd brought. Most of the items were for the kitchen, since Eric didn't have many of those necessities. I'd also brought a couple of boxes of clothes. My small car didn't hold much, but this would be the first of many trips.

Eric found me in the kitchen and slipped his arms around my waist, nuzzling his nose into my neck. I heard him inhale my scent, and I closed my eyes as I leaned back into him.

"You should have left the boxes in the car and let me carry them in for you when I rose," he said.

He must have noticed the pile of empty boxes stacked by the door that connected to the garage.

"Gave me something to do," I replied.

I turned around in his arms and held myself to him. Odd, really, how a body so cold and hard only made me feel warm and safe. I sighed against him as he kissed the top of my head.

"I can give you something to do," he said, and though I couldn't see his grin, I heard it in his voice.

Tilting my head back to look up – and up and up – at him, I found it impossible not to return his smile, miserable as I felt. But thanks to our renewed blood bond, Eric knew something was wrong with me. His smile curved downwards.

"What's bothering you, my lover?" he asked.

"The cluviel dor is gone," I said, pressing my face into his chest.

I listened to the soft hum of the refrigerator as I waited for his reply.

"Dermot used it?"

"No. I found him at my house this morning, and he was wanting to use it to separate you and me because _he_ wants me to pop out some magical fairy babies for him. When I stopped him, it fell on the floor and broke. I'm so sorry, Eric."

He stepped back from me a little, though he kept his arms around me, and said, "Come."

I nodded, let him go, and followed him into his office. He picked up the chair that usually sat across from him and brought it around behind the desk, beside his. While I sat down, he turned on his computer and rummaged in one of the desk drawers for a pile of papers. Finally, he sat beside me and set the papers in front of us.

"What's all this?" I asked him.

"I'll get to that in a moment," he said. "First, we need to talk. Killing Oklahoma is not an option because I know you would object to it. Am I correct in that assumption?"

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did that."

He nodded, very businesslike. "Not an option, then. Only one avenue remains open to us, but I don't know if you will like it."

I reached for his hand and squeezed it. "If it means that you won't be taken away from me, then I like it," I said.

I tried to smile, but Eric only looked grim. He laid his hand on the pile of papers.

"These are contracts sent to me by Oklahoma's lawyers. Her offer is to release me from this commitment in exchange for your services. Whenever she requires them, for as long as she wishes. At no charge."

There was a heavy, dead weight settling into my stomach, and I didn't know what to say.

Eric continued, "This is her final offer. Believe me, there were many phone calls between us. I would not have you do this, Sookie. I would kill her first. Nevertheless, she sent these papers and has been waiting for my reply."

"She wants me to be her slave," I mused aloud. My voice sounded almost as hollow as I felt. Almost.

"Because you are human, she sees no problem with regarding you as such. Most vampires would say you have no claim on me whatsoever."

I took a deep breath and locked my eyes on his. "What if I'm not human?" I asked. "What if I'm a vampire?"

Whatever Eric was thinking, I couldn't feel it or see it on his face. All I saw was the icy blue of his eyes. Without looking away from him, I reached into my pocket and set the pieces of the cluviel dor on top of the papers.

"I'm waiting to find out from Mr. Cataliades if this can be fixed," I told him. "And if it can't, I want you to turn me. I'm yours, and you're mine, and there's no room for anybody else in that equation, queen or not."

Judging by what I was feeling, both from myself and from Eric, we would've had some really good sex right then. But the explosion nipped that idea in the bud.


	7. Chapter 7

When I next opened my eyes, I was greeted by bright sunlight filtering through the slats of hospital blinds. I turned my head slightly – owww, that hurt – and saw the logo for LSU's medical center in Shreveport. My whole body ached.

"Sookie, thank God," I heard a quiet, warm voice say on my other side, and I turned again – owwww – to see Sam. I didn't realize that he was holding my hand until he squeezed it.

"Sam," I mumbled.

"You're okay, _cher_," he said. He stroked my hair back from my forehead in a soothing way. "You got a concussion from that explosion at Eric's, but you're going to be fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises. Jason's in the cafeteria getting some lunch."

"Eric?"

He squeezed my hand again. "Eric's the one who called us. He's not hurt. At least, nothing that his vampire healing couldn't fix in minutes."

Sam buzzed the nurses' station to let them know that I was awake, and a few minutes later, a nurse named Mindy was flitting around me and checking my vitals. She adjusted my bed so that I was sitting up a bit more. My head felt like an enormous rock.

Mindy explained that I might get headaches for a few days, and that my doctor was going to prescribe some pain medication for me. Other than that, there should be no problem with my leaving the hospital later in the evening. Eric had arranged to pick me up just after sundown. I thanked her, and she left Sam and me alone again.

"You said… explosion at Eric's?" I asked Sam.

The last thing I remembered was talking to Eric in his office. After that? Nothing.

Sam looked grim. "Yes. Half of his house was obliterated. You're very, very lucky, and so is he." Sam didn't seem too pleased about Eric's luck.

Both Sam and Jason sweetly stayed with me until the sky began to darken. I was grateful for their company and for the brief respite before Eric and I would have to start figuring this out. My first thought was Dermot, for obvious reasons. But knowing my life, there was just no telling.

Lucy, the nurse who took over Mindy's shift, came in with a doctor just after I'd finished my supper. (Call me crazy, but I like hospital food. Any meal I don't have to make myself is a good meal to me.) He looked me over, scribbled on his clipboard, and pronounced me "fit as a fiddle." He gave me a prescription for light pain medication in case of headaches.

I was dressed and looking – if not entirely feeling – like my old self by the time Eric got there. Hidden in his arms, I allowed myself to shake and cry.

"Not here," he said in a gruff voice. "Let's get you out of here, and then I will hold you as long as you like."

"Okay," I sniffed, yanking a Kleenex up from the box beside the bed.

Eric paid my bill in full at the desk when I checked out, and I let him. _Our_ money, I reminded myself. I didn't know if I would ever get comfortable with that, even though I knew I should. Maybe it felt wrong because Eric was so ridiculously wealthy.

We didn't say a word in the car. I just watched the lights of the city fly by until we reached the hotel where Eric had booked us a room. Naturally, we couldn't go to his house, and mine was out of the question, too. I knew that if we started talking, I would crumble as I had begun to do at the hospital. I wanted to be alone with Eric when I did that.

And, yep, my brave front fell apart as soon as we stepped into the room and I saw the closet filled with my clothes. I assumed Mustapha had been hard at work that afternoon.

I turned into Eric and clung to his shirt like a baby, and I didn't care. He held me and didn't say a word, letting me cry it out. When I fell quiet for a minute, he tipped my chin up with this finger.

"Ready to talk?" he asked. His eyes could be so gentle, so loving. I guessed I was the only one who ever got to see that.

I nodded. "Yeah. Let me wash my face and put on something more comfy."

It's amazing what a splash of cold water and a pair of worn, familiar pajama bottoms can do for a person. I emerged from the bathroom to find Eric sitting on the edge of the king-size bed. He held an arm out to me, and I sat beside him, curling one leg underneath me so I could face him.

"My house is destroyed," he said matter-of-factly. I knew that he said "my house" out of pure habit, and that nothing was meant by it. "And even if it could be repaired, we would no longer be safe there."

"Right," I said.

"We'll stay here until we decide what to do. In the meantime, my day people are cleaning out the house, salvaging what they can, and placing those things in storage lockers, where they will remain until we decide on a new residence. My question is this: shall we do the same with your house in Bon Temps?"

I chewed on my lip and thought. Finally, I said, "No. Eric… It's never going to be that hard to find where we live if someone really wants to hurt one of us. We can't keep moving every week. We've got to just live somewhere, put up good security, and be careful. I don't want to live like a fugitive for the rest of my life. You've had enemies for centuries, right? But you've managed to have a home."

He smiled a little. "I never had a house blown up until I met you."

"So who do we think did it?" I asked, sighing.

"There is absolutely no evidence. All we have to go on is our wits. Knowing what I do about your fae kin, I'm inclined to lean in that direction."

"Me too."

"Dermot?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Most likely. He's not too happy with me. Or you, for that matter."

"And we must not forget Felipe and Freyda," he added.

Eric frowned and stared straight across the room as he brooded for a little while. I untucked my leg, which had begun to fall asleep.

"Here is what I suggest," Eric said at last. "We should stay here until this matter is resolved – and by that I mean until we have taken care of the party or parties responsible."

"Taken care of," I repeated absently. I knew what that meant, and I would never like it, no matter how necessary it might be.

"After that, we have two options. I could move into your house permanently, which would require the installation of certain necessities for me, or we could choose another home. That decision does not have to be made tonight, and I will leave it to you."

"So what's the plan? Where do we go from here?" I asked.

"Tonight's plan is rest."

I had no arguments with that.

Eric stood up and pulled back the soft, fluffy covers of the hotel bed, and I crawled up to the pillows. I figured I was in heaven when my head hit them. Eric slid in beside me and pulled me to him, and I tucked my head under his neck.

"You didn't heal me," I observed as his fingertip traced one of the scratches on my arm.

"I will if you want me to," he said. "In keeping with your efforts to trust me, I decided never to give you my blood again without your consent – unless, of course, your life depends on it."

I turned my face up to his and kissed him. In a gloriously comfortable hotel bed, with Eric's body shielding me from everything else in the world, my life depended on little else.

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><p><em> Sorry, I know it's a short chapter, and I don't update as much as I should. *hangs head* Hope you enjoy it just the same. Thanks for all of your encouragement. -DeeDee<em>


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up early and felt Eric's cool skin next to mine as I stirred. He was dead to the world, of course. My head didn't hurt, and I was grateful for that. After a long, hot shower, some fresh clothes, and a dab of make-up, I felt human again. Well, as human as someone like me can feel. Eric had had the foresight to use my own car to get me from the hospital and drive us here, so I picked up my keys where he'd left them the night before and headed out.

My first stop was at the pharmacy to fill that prescription for pain meds, just in case. Then I called Sam and asked him if he had time to meet me at my house so I could take care of some things before returning to the hotel. Normally, I would've just gone home without a second thought, but I was determined to be more careful. I had been staked and shot and tortured and blown up way too often for my liking.

When I pulled up to my house, Sam was waiting for me at the back door. He smiled and came up to hug me.

"You look better already," he said, holding me at arm's length.

He followed me inside, and I set him up in the kitchen with a Coke while I went to my room to pack a few more clothes and some toiletries. I realized with some dismay that I'd probably lost all the stuff I'd brought to Eric's on the night of the explosion. Nothing that a quick trip to Wal-Mart wouldn't fix.

When I'd gotten everything I needed and locked my house up tight, I hugged Sam again. "Thanks for taking the time," I told him.

"Hey, the more careful you are, the happier I am, Sookie," he said.

I decided to spend the rest of the day being relaxed and lazy. I drove back to the hotel, fished out one of the paperbacks I'd stuffed into my suitcase, and curled into the bed next to Eric. I spooned my body into his and pulled his thick, heavy arm over my waist. Sometime in the early afternoon, I must have drifted off. I was sound asleep when my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I mumbled.

It was Mr. Cataliades. I immediately sat up in the bed and eyed my suitcase, where the pieces of the cluviel dor were tucked away in one of the zippered pockets.

"There is a way to insure that heirloom you called me about," he said. "I will e-mail you the paperwork."

"Really? Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed.

If I didn't already know from personal experience that Eric was next to impossible to rouse during the day, I would've shaken him awake to tell him right then.

"Don't thank me yet, Miss Stackhouse. It isn't easy. You might want to call your accountant, Miss Broadway, to help you fill everything out."

"I will," I assured him, understanding.

I waited about ten minutes after we got off the phone, and then I found Eric's laptop and connected to the hotel's wireless internet to check my mail. Sure enough, there was an e-mail from Mr. C, and it had a PDF attached.

I opened it, read it, closed it. I logged out of my account and put the laptop away.

Repairing a cluviel dor would require spilling the blood of a parent (not even possible), an enemy, a friend, and another fairy. And by "spilling the blood," they don't mean poking somebody's arm with a needle. With what I knew of the fairies, I should have known that a love token wasn't made of glitter and rainbows. Not for the first time, I wished that I could tear out that part of myself and be a regular human being. But I'd never be a regular human being.

Funny, I realized suddenly, because that's exactly what Freyda _thought_ I was.

"Niall," I whispered, looking up at the ceiling, "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm asking for your help."

I went back to my e-mail and replied to Mr. Cataliades, "Please let Mr. Brigant know that I'd like to see him soon." I hesitated for a moment before I clicked "send."

_That's right, Sookie_, I told myself. _Curse the fairies one minute and beg for their help the next_.

If you can't beat 'em…

And "send."

* * *

><p>If Eric was surprised by my cheery mood when he opened his eyes at sundown to find me half-naked and straddling him, he didn't complain. A few orgasms later, we were riding in his car to Fangtasia. I had brought along a book and a crossword magazine to keep me busy while Eric saw to his business at the club. And the business had definitely picked up since Victor was no longer in the picture.<p>

Pam met us at the back door. She hadn't changed into her costume yet, and her bra and tiny undies didn't leave much to the imagination. On the couch I saw a pretty lavender dress, which she must have worn to work. I picked up the hanger that lay beside it and started to hang it up while Pam shimmied into some shiny leather pants.

"Felipe's out in the bar," she told us. "That's why I'm late getting ready."

She said this matter-of-factly as she tugged up the zipper at her hip, but I stopped what I was doing and stared between her and Eric. The blood bond told me that Eric's feelings were more in line with mine than with Pam's. He was surprised and anxious. But you never would have known it, just looking at that confident vampire face of his.

"So he's alive," Eric said.

"Does he seem mad?" I asked Pam, hanging her dress up in the closet.

Pam twisted her hair up and began sticking in pins to hold it up. "Never go by how a vampire _seems_, Sookie. Honestly, haven't we taught you anything?" She smirked at me and Eric in turn.

"Pam, stay in here with Sookie. I'll go out and meet with him," Eric said.

"No need," came Felipe's smooth voice, and we all turned to see him walking through the door. He left it open.

Eric and Pam both bowed their heads in respect and said "Your Majesty" at the same time. I just stood there and waited for the other shoe to drop.

When he looked at me, Felipe smiled and laid his hand over his heart. "Miss Stackhouse, what a pleasure."

"Mrs. Northman, technically," I said.

I probably should have been more polite, but Felipe was not on my good side. I had liked him at first, but I didn't appreciate the way he'd allowed Victor to run roughshod over Eric the way he'd done. Either he was a devious asshole, or he was a lousy king. Maybe he was both. Either way, he had some explaining to do as far as I was concerned.

At my declaration, I felt a surge of pride and love from Eric. And lust. He liked hearing the words "Mrs. Northman." I filed that away for later, when we were alone and naked.

Felipe didn't seem to mind my backtalk. "Right you are, my dear," he said. "Eric, I know you have a business to run, so I will get straight to the point."

Was that a tiny wooden stake I saw pinned up in Pam's hair? I blinked and looked again. It was.

"It seems that I am now without a regent for your state," Felipe went on. "I will not miss Victor, so I am glad that it was you who won in the end."

Felipe paused for Eric to say something, and Pam and I both watched him, waiting. He didn't say anything, of course. Eric was never one to show his hand. It was still up to Felipe to do the talking.

"You know the state better than anyone I could bring in from Las Vegas, and you are without a doubt a dominant figure in Amun. Now you have proven your worth by defeating Victor. Everything considered, you are the best choice to govern this state. Do you accept?"

A regency as thanks for a political assassination. Welcome to Vampire Land. The more I thought about it, the surer I was that this had been the reason for Felipe's non-involvement. He was waiting to see who came out on top.

"I am honored by your offer, but no," Eric replied.

Felipe raised his eyebrows. "You surprise me."

Surprised the hell out of me, too.

Eric had often maintained that he wasn't interested in being a king, but I had just assumed that he was saving face. He wasn't a king, so he pretended that it was his own choice. I'd misjudged him yet again.

"If you would allow me to make a suggestion?"

"You may," Felipe nodded.

Eric opened one of his desk drawers and drew out a manila folder, which he handed to Felipe. "Maxwell Lee," he said. "A loyal subject, a sharp and steady mind, and a keen businessman. I strongly recommend that you consider him."

"Excellent," Felipe said, flipping through the folder. He looked back up. "It seems my business here is done."

Felipe strode over to me, lifted my hand, and kissed it, and then he repeated the gesture with Pam. He left without any further ado.

"That's it?" I asked when he was gone. Sure, vampires are pragmatic, but really!

"That's it," Pam said. "I'm going to cast my pearls before the swine. Call me if you need anything."

She left Eric and me alone and closed his office door. I walked over to Eric and hugged his waist with my arms.

"I'm glad you said no," I said.

"Wouldn't you have liked to be my royal consort?" he asked.

I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. I just laughed and tightened my arms around him. _I love you once, I love you twice, I love you more than beans and rice_. That was something my Gran used to say to Jason and me at bedtime. For some reason, it popped into my head right then. I was too embarrassed to recite the silly words to Eric out loud, but I thought them.

"I'm going to ask Niall for help," I told Eric, my face still pressed into the cool material of his shirt.

Eric had been still before, but somehow he became even more still. "That could prove risky, my lover, bringing fairies into vampire affairs."

"It's not vampire affairs," I said. I tilted my head back to look up at him. "I'm in this, too, and I'm part fairy. Right?"

"Yes…" he hedged.

"Well, little miss Queen of Oklahoma may be able to steal you away from a lowly human, but she's gonna have trouble on her hands if she tries to steal you from Niall Brigant's great-granddaughter."

Eric picked me up effortlessly, and I locked my ankles around his waist and my arms around his neck.

"Shall I take you here on the desk or over there on the couch?" he asked.

"Both," I said. I nipped his bottom lip with my teeth. "But lock the door first."

I could do my crosswords another night.


	9. Chapter 9

_Just a quick helping of lemons as my way of saying "thank you!" for being so patient and encouraging. =)_

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><p>Eric zipped over to lock the door and was back between my legs before my body could even register that he had left. Once he had pulled my shirt over my head, he didn't bother taking off my bra. He just yanked it down and captured my breasts with his hands and his mouth. I fell backwards rather ungracefully and knocked a stapler onto the floor. Oops.<p>

He reached down between us and cupped me, grinning against my gasping mouth. "Someone's very ready," he said.

"Mmmhmm," I replied as I fumbled with his jeans.

I pushed them off him and raised my hips so he could rid me of my shorts and panties. He slid two of his long fingers inside me, and he watched my face as he stroked.

"Come for me," he demanded. "Right now."

His thumb found my nub, and I didn't need to be told twice.

While I tried to recover my breath, he was working hard to take it away again. His mouth was on me now, his tongue swiping and teasing and stroking. I put my foot on his shoulder and tried to leverage myself even closer to him, but he was having none of that. He held my thighs with his hands and growled. The rumble of it felt impossibly good.

The orgasm jar was getting good and full tonight.

Eric stood up again and claimed my mouth roughly before pulling me forward off the desk and turning me around.

"No," I said, struggling against him. I closed my eyes at the feel of him pressing against my entrance.

He stopped moving. "No?" he repeated in a strained voice. His fingers tightened on my hips.

I turned myself in his arms and wrapped my fingers around him, guiding him in. "This way," I said. "I want to see your face."

Baring his fangs, he thrust into me, and my happy cry was muffled with his fingers. "Your cries are for me only," he grunted, "not for the vermin outside this office."

I pulled his face down closer to mine. "And this… this is for me only," I replied, kissing him. "Not some vampire queen. Me."

He picked me up, and I locked my ankles around his waist. He carried us to the sofa and sat so that my knees were on either side of him. Our pace at the desk had been a little frenzied, but I slowed us down as I moved over him and kissed him deeply.

I pulled my hair over one shoulder and turned my neck to him. "Bite," I said.

As he drank from me, I felt my orgasm building and building. His eyes were dark and feral when he pulled back from me, and his lips and teeth were red with my blood. Most people would have found that frightening or disturbing, but that's because they couldn't see what I saw: that love and pleasure had turned his eyes fierce, and that my blood on his lips was evidence of our bond.

We came together, me burying my mouth into his shoulder to stifle what would have been a very loud and very satisfied cry. I turned my face to his neck and kissed it.

I felt a savage possessiveness in our bond, and it wasn't his. It was all me.

"You're mine," I whispered.

There was a sharp rap on the office door.

"What?" Eric growled, and it rumbled against my chest.

"I _hate_ to interrupt your meeting," came Pam's voice, sounding not at all sorry, "but Niall Brigant is here."

* * *

><p><em>I'll try to post a real update with actual... *ahem* <em>content _at the end of the week. ;-)_


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